His little feet patter down the steps 7:30 almost every summer morning. Frankie in hand, carried close to his face, caressing his cheek with love.
His eyes catch mine, and he gives me the open mouthed smile of Lukey excitement.
A run, and a full hug, climbing into my lap (and I wonder how much longer he will fit there).
He lays his little head on my shoulder. Frankie close, breathing in its comfort.
And we sit, quiet. . .
Good morning, my love. How are you today?
Our moments. Just being close together before we begin breakfast and toons (bancakes, or Mama Cereal, and milk).
It's one of the only moments in the day when he is so very still. My only chance to hold him so small, before he runs off in the frantic energy that grabs him, taking him on endless little boy adventures. . .